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Sophie disappeared into the bathroom and Tara stepped out on to the balcony. Down below the pool staff was busy setting up chaise lounges and raising sun umbrellas for the day. The morning was warm and clear without a cloud in the sky. Just another day in paradise, thought Tara, only right now it didn’t feel like paradise.
The pool was just under their room maybe thirty feet away. Tara concentrated on one of the pool chairs and said, “Into the pool.” The chair slid along the concrete pool deck and launched itself into the pool.
The splash brought the attention of the pool attendants who were wiping down and setting up chairs, and they watched in baffled silence as the chair floated for a second or two then began to sink lazily to the bottom of the pool. One of the guys looked around, threw up his hands, took off his shirt and jumped into the water. He retrieved the chair and with a great deal of effort dragged it to the pool deck. Tara bit her lip, smothered a giggle and made a mental note to leave a generous tip for the morning pool staff.

She looked beyond the pool deck onto the oceanfront. About a hundred yards away, a lone man stood in the morning light on the deserted beach. From her vantage point on the balcony Tara saw that he was holding some sort of remote control device. A small drone, about the size of a platter took off from the sand. Tara brought her focus to the small aircraft.
“Land on the sand,” She commanded. But the drone continued rising. Her inner voice piped up.
“This is not as simple as it appears. From this distance and considering the size of the object, we will need a little help. Use the talisman to help us focus our power.”
Tara reached down and grabbed her necklace; again she focused on the drone and said, “Land on the sand.”
The drone stopped climbing and simply hovered. The man holding the remote control looked confused and began to work the controls in earnest but the drone didn’t move.
The voice continued to instruct, “More concentration, and this time use your body just a little.”
Tara concentrated harder on the drone as she extended her arm, pointed her finger at the aircraft and slowly lowered it repeating her command. The drone dropped through the tropical air and landed gently on the sand. The man on the beach turned over his remote control and pulled out the batteries, then put them back in. He jogged over to the drone and began turning it over in his hands trying to find the cause of the malfunction. “Perfect.” said the voice.

The setting for the book “The Awakening of Tara” is the tropical island of Barbados. I chose this island as the backdrop for my series Charmed in Paradise because after spending several weeks there for work (I periodically taught yoga at a high end resort there) I found it to be the closest thing to paradise I had ever experienced. Not only was the Island warm, romantic and beautiful, the food was heavenly!

If you would like to experience a little of this paradise I suggest you read book one, “The Awakening of Tara” and try out a couple of these recipes. By the way, these recipes make up the meal that Mimi makes for Asha in the book. Who is Asha, you ask? Guess you’re going to have to read the book to find out!

Cover and cook on low for 8-10 hours or on high for 4-6 hours or until vegetables are tender. Add coconut milk and stir well. Set crock pot to high and cook for 15-20 minutes more. Garnish with cilantro before serving.

In a large (12-inch) saute pan, heat oil to 325 degrees F. Peel plantains and slice crosswise into 1-inch pieces. Carefully add plantains to oil and fry until golden yellow in color, about 1 to 1 1/2 minutes per side. (The oil should come halfway up the side of the plantain). With a spider or slotted spoon, remove the plantains from the pan and place them on a cookie sheet lined with parchment paper, standing them on their ends. With the back of a wide, wooden spatula, press each piece of plantain down to half its original size. Then place the plantains in the water and let soak for 1 minute. Remove and pat dry with a tea towel to remove excess water.

Bring oil back up to 325 degrees F and return plantains to pan and cook until golden brown, approximately 2 to 4 minutes per side. Remove to a dish lined with paper towels, and sprinkle with salt, if desired. Serve immediately.

Put 1/4 cup sugar in a shallow plate. In a bowl, combine the tamarind, hot sauce, salt, and remaining sugar. Using your hands, mix the ingredients together. Divide the tamarind mixture into bite-size portions, and shape into balls. Add the tamarind balls to the sugar, and roll to coat evenly.

He laid her naked body gently on the bed, the surface of which was covered in one hundred dollar bills. She could feel his ravenous eyes devouring her. He reached over to the bedside table. It was the piece he’d insisted she secure for him when it had come up at Sotheby’s; the winning bid had been $497,000.00. From the drawer he retrieved a mitten. But this was no ordinary mitten. It was finely handcrafted from the fur of Russian chinchillas. He slipped it over his hand as he stared deeply into her eyes. She felt her womanhood begin to melt, going soft and syrupy. He placed the velvety fur of the mitten on her cheek and watched her shiver at the incredible sensation. Somehow flushed with heat and chilled at the same time, she involuntarily released a low purr from deep within her throat. He slowly ran his gloved hand down her body, gliding the fur over the sensitive skin of her neck and she shuddered with anticipation. The crisp, rough texture of the money against her backside and the luxurious softness of the fur glove against her neck made all of her skin come alive, every nerve firing at once leaving her unable to control herself. A low moan escaped her lips like a thief in the night as his gloved hand slid tantalizingly over one breast and then the other. He leaned down, his eyes staring deeply into hers and brushed his lips teasingly across hers. And then he claimed her lips possessively with his and she tasted hints of French champagne and lust as the glove continued its journey southward, setting her entire body aflame with desire…

What is it about these naughty billionaires and their sexy money? If you go to the romance section of your favorite bookstore or online retailer these bad boys with big bucks are everywhere. Each one seems to have a dark secret and a nasty little proclivity that sets our hearts a flutter. But why is their money so important to the overall equation?

It’s easy to point our crooked little fingers at E.L James and her breakout novel Fifty Shades of Grey but these seeds were sown long before that phenomenon took hold. Even that bastion of wholesome family entertainment, Walt Disney introduced our trembling pre-pubescent hearts to the story of Cinderella. That poor step sister/house maid who hits the magical equivalent of the Power Ball Lottery and meets her handsome (and of course, incredibly rich) prince. What little girl didn’t dream of that fate befalling her?

Having unlimited resources suddenly thrust upon us in the company of a roguishly handsome, yet flawed (let’s face it—every girl needs a project or life’s just a yawn fest) alpha male with the mega hots for us is the stuff of dreams.

So, while I love and appreciate my everyday life filled with soccer practice, doctors appointments, housework and bill-juggling, I also love escaping into a world where people jet off to Paris at a moment’s notice and pull chinchilla gloves from the drawers of nightstands they picked up for half a million bucks.

There are those who would deride me for my little billionaire fantasy but I remain shamelessly unapologetic and freely admit that yes, part of the attraction is the money. Now my only question is: Where can a girl get her hands on a chinchilla mitten—on EBay?

Sara McBride is the author of The Awakening of Tara, the first book in her Charmed in Paradise series of BBW Paranormal Romance novellas available at:

…Tara strolled into the warm Caribbean water feeling like a supermodel. This is what it must feel like to be one of those girls in a magazine, she thought, totally naked and not a shred of self-consciousness. She replayed all those years of turning off the lights before getting undressed with Richard and giggled.

The warm water lapped at her knees, then splashed higher around her thighs. Troy was up ahead playing in the waves like a little kid. When the water was waist deep, Tara dove forward and began to swim toward him using one arm to propel herself, the other hand clasping the pendant firmly.

The old Tara would never have dove into the water; she would have been afraid her makeup would streak or her hair might look strange if it got wet. But the Tara now holding the pendant didn’t care about any of those things.

She swam to Troy, coming out of the water beside him like a mermaid.

“Hi,” she whispered.

Troy turned and greeted her “Hey, you changed your mind!”

Tara gave him her twenty-four-carat smile then added some come-fuck-me to it. Troy’s eyes grew wide and the boyish grin fell off his face, replaced by a look of unabashed animal hunger.

“My God you’re beautiful,” he said, his eyes roving from her hair to her face to her bare breasts.

Tara leaned forward and kissed him hard, and in that moment, released all her pent up sexual tension from the last year, released all her anger at Richard, all her frustration with work and life in general, and a felt the awakening of a deep need she couldn’t quite describe.

His mouth tasted salty and sweet, and his lips felt firm and hot against hers. There was nothing gentle or tender about their kiss. The shrinking violet became the lioness, hungry and demanding. Tara pushed her tongue deep into his mouth, exploring, and Troy returned her intensity with his own deep hunger, his insistent tongue in a dance with hers, igniting a fire between her thighs.

She let go of the pendant and reached her arms around his waist, took his perfect backside in her hands and pulled herself to him; felt a thrill of heat in her sex as his cock began to harden against her belly.

Troy reached back and grasped her bottom in his huge hands, kneading urgently as he lifted her cheeks and pulled them apart. Tara felt a pang of insecurity but she reached up and squeezed the glowing stone for a second and immediately felt her doubt evaporate.

Troy couldn’t get enough of her big ass and all its curves and fullness; seemed eager to possess it. The thought made her pussy flush with heat. She felt his erection stiffen and lengthen as it pressed persistently against her stomach.

He ran a finger up her spine and planted soft kisses along her neck, sampling her honey- colored skin with his insistent tongue. Goosebumps spread across Tara’s flesh like flames on a pool of gasoline. A low guttural growl escaped her throat as her excitement began to build. Troy’s hungry mouth made its way from her neck down her shoulder then back up again where he found an earlobe and began to tug at it with his teeth. Tara moaned and pressed her cheek against his face; allowed herself to sink into the sensation as he possessed her…

Sometimes you have to step outside of your comfort zone to evolve into the person you want to be instead of the person you are. The fact is this process is seldom fun and often painful. But it is absolutely necessary for growth.

This is the story of one of those moments for me.

It was early in my fitness/wellness career. I was fresh out of yoga school and I had talked my way into a job at a high end resort spa. But if the truth be known I was vastly under qualified for the job.

I began having a re-occurring nightmare where I’m late for work. I drive through town at break neck speeds almost mowing down little old ladies and women with strollers along the way. When I finally get there the class is full. I introduce myself and quickly lay out my mat, only to realize I have neglected to get dressed. There I stand naked in front of the world.

One day after teaching yoga, a student from the class approached me. She said that she had really enjoyed the class and that she worked for an all-inclusive hotel chain in the Caribbean. This chain liked to bring in guest yoga instructors and they would pay for all expenses all you had to do was teach two classes a day. Sounded like a great deal to me; they would assign me to one of several resorts with varying themes like sports-oriented, high-end luxury, or their non-stop party location. A few days later I signed a contract stating that I would teach whatever, whenever, wherever in exchange for a one-week free vacation.

Three weeks later I was on a plane headed for the Caribbean. I arrived at the party hotel, unpacked and headed for the manager’s office where I was told I would get my schedule for the week. The manager was super busy but he welcomed me warmly and handed me my schedule, assuring me that his assistant would answer any questions I might have. She gave me a tour of the lush, tropical resort, explaining to me that the resort was divided in half. One side was the nude side and the other side was the prude side. “Your 7 am class tomorrow morning is “Nude Yoga on the Beach” and your 5pm class is “Sunset Yoga on the Prude Terrace.”

I stood there in shock. Nude yoga on the beach? She asked me if I had any questions, but all I could think of was that I had signed a contract to teach whatever, whenever, wherever they wanted me to. They’d flown me all the way down there from L.A. to the Caribbean– what the hell was I supposed to do? Nope, no questions, ma-am.

I didn’t sleep a wink that night–all I could think of was that my nightmares were coming true. At 7am I wrapped a towel around my naked body, grabbed my yoga mat and headed down to the nude beach. There on the sand, assembled on towels and yoga mats were 40 people patiently waiting, the class was a mix of both men and women and all of them were naked as the day they were born. I strode confidently to the head of the class… OK maybe not that confidently, laid out my yoga mat, ripped off my towel and in all of my naked glory introduced myself and started class. The participants ranged in age from early twenties to late sixties and honestly, it was a tough class to teach. There were students with lots of different fitness levels, the sand made balance postures tough, and there was the difficulty of analyzing body alignment while trying really hard not to “look” at bodies. I was a little freaked out about touching people to help them with their poses, even in places I would have been fine touching them clothed. Somehow it all seemed weird in this setting, because dammit, I was naked!

But I made it through class without any major embarrassing incidents. At the end of class several people came up and told me how much they had enjoyed the class. A nice woman in her late fifties with big blue eyes and huge boobs asked me “Are you a nudist?” I politely said no, to which she replied, “Well I really appreciate you respecting our lifestyle. My husband and I come down here three or four times a year and we always enjoy the yoga classes. But you’re the first teacher that ever taught the class naked!”

After the shock wore off, I realized that I had just lived through my “nightmare,” and while it had been challenging, I had made it through. Every class I taught after that seemed, well….easy. And when I was faced with a situation that was tough, my mantra became “Well, at least I don’t have to do this naked!” Not surprisingly the nightmares disappeared after that and yoga became my specialty. The resort was so impressed that I began to fly to the Caribbean on a regular basis moving from property to property to teach. As the popularity of yoga grew I was contacted by other companies to teach at their resorts and on cruise ships and was blessed with the opportunity to travel the world and teach yoga. Now I never taught nude yoga again, but somehow knowing that I could made me a far better teacher

A week after after Harper Lee released her controversial new novel, Go Set A Watchman, the book has sold 1.1 million copies. Critics were lukewarm to the book and many fans of To Kill A Mockingbird were horrified by an aging and racist Atticus Finch. But none of that seemed to affect sales.

Publisher Harper Collins announced today that the book has topped the million dollar mark in USA and Canadian sales in just a little under a week, all of which is considered to be surprising because Ms. Lee had been adamant for decades that her Pulitzer Prize-winning novel To Kill A Mockingbird would be her only book. But in February Harper Collins announced that “Watchman” would soon be released, setting the publishing world aflutter. Now it seems that cash registers and accountants are the ones all aflutter. Can you say Cha-Ching?